


space

by vagarius



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Introspection, M/M, Space Metaphors, idk what to tag this as honestly, sort of...
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-04
Updated: 2017-02-04
Packaged: 2018-09-21 23:50:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9572315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vagarius/pseuds/vagarius
Summary: But Hinata is also genuine, which pulls Kei in, his gravity weightier than the densest of stars.





	

**Author's Note:**

> when will i write something of decent length again? who knows i don't

Kei wonders, sometimes, how Hinata can handle shining so bright, how he can deal with the excess warmth. Wonders how he doesn't blind himself when he looks in the mirror, or collapse like a neutron star. Wonders how he doesn't expand like some human supernova, mass lost in the chaos.

Kei doesn't understand him.

(Kei doesn't _want_ to understand him. While Kei hides in the shadows, Hinata basks in the light. While Kei freezes under the weight of his own pseudo-apathy, Hinata –

\- Hinata _burns_.)

 

 

 

Kei really wants to hate Hinata, and for the most part, he does. Hinata's passion is loud, which drives Kei away, and his enthusiasm unnatural, which drives Kei mad.

But Hinata is also genuine, which pulls Kei in, his gravity weightier than the densest of stars.

(And, oh – how Kei loves the stars. How he loves to stare. But the stars are much too far and much too bright for someone like Kei; someone who was never meant to touch beautiful things, lest he make them cold and dark and bitter.

And Kei hates that more than anything, even Hinata.)

 

 

 

Heat dissipates, Kei knows, yet Hinata never grows colder. His voice is grating. His breath is sweet and warm. His gaze is smoldering.

Kei avoids him.

He uses the first descriptor as an excuse, pretends his ears will bleed if he hears him, pretends that he actually cares whether they do or not. As if it's Hinata's voice that physically hurts him, and not the heat that makes him flush pink and nervous, nor the eyes that follow him, sometimes, like he's worthy of their stare.

Staying makes him afraid. The longer he stays, the more he'll want to reach out, and the more he'll want to touch.

And Kei was never meant to touch beautiful things.

 

 

 

_Tsukishima-kun, you're really bright. I wish I were as smart as you!_

_Tsukishima-kun, you're really serious. I wish I were as focused as you!_

_Tsukishima-kun, you're really insightful. I wish I were as observant as you!_

(As if. As if. As if.)

_(I swear you don't want to be like me.)_

Kei likes to think he's good at avoiding people; he usually is. But not Hinata, apparently. Never Hinata.

(He likes to think he's good at a lot of things. Volleyball, for instance. And look at where that got him.)

Hinata should look furious, Kei thinks. He should be angry, or frustrated, or any number of related emotions. Instead, he looks sad. Confused. Heartbroken. Kei wonders why that would be.

_Is it because of me?,_ he thinks, selfishly. Or perhaps he says it out loud, because Hinata now looks how Kei initially predicted, his face scrunched and teeth partially bared, and yet the other emotions don't completely disappear. There are tears in Hinata's eyes. His cheeks grow damp. And even though he knows he shouldn't, Kei reaches out –

_he was never meant to touch beautiful things_

\- and pulls Hinata toward him, head to Kei's chest, where Kei's heart beats to the borrowed warmth wrapped in his arms.

And when Kei finally lets go, Hinata doesn't look cold or dark or bitter. To Kei's surprise, he smiles.

 

 

 

(Kei still doesn't understand him.)

 

 

 


End file.
